Among the myriad mysteries and confounding questions faced by beginning — and often enough experienced — fly-fishermen, perhaps the most profound can be summarized in two simple words: What happened?

Fishing, after all, is the ultimate everyman sport, introduced to children at farm ponds and on the docks of city parks. Fishermen line the piers of the Atlantic and Pacific as well as the streams that flow between them, passing through mountains, prairies and urban corridors alike. Fishing line could be considered our common thread.

So how did we wind up here? At what point did the stuffed tweed elite rise above the rest to claim dominion over the niche of fishing with a fly rod and take exclusive rights to the image? When did waving a stick over water begin demanding such steep initiation fees in order to learn the secret handshake?

“I think we’re just overshadowed by these big corporate brands that have dominated the industry,” said Peter Stitcher, a Denver-based aquatic biologist and restoration ecologist who has made it his mission to apply the everyman ethos to fishing with a fly. “They’ve done a lot of good things, but they’ve also forwarded this kind of exclusive white-collar lifestyle that seems kind of inaccessible to a lot of people. It’s really a disservice that that image has persisted. We have to counteract that.”

Such is the prevailing philosophy behind the second annual Fly Fishing Rendezvous (flyfishingrendezvous.com), a grassroots gathering of Front Range fly-fishing educators who have taken on the task of making the sport accessible and enjoyable for everyone. You won’t find an elitist inner circle at the Holiday Inn Lakewood (7390 W. Hampden Ave.) next Saturday and Sunday. Instead, participants paying the modest $5 entrance fee ($4 in advance) will find some 18 hours of classes, casting clinics and camaraderie among like-minded locals and Front Range fishing brands.

“It’s a ‘no secrets’ event,” said its founder, Stitcher, tracing its roots back to a garage sale. “I feel like a lot of people walk into a fly shop and feel like there are those in the know and then there are the rest of us. A big aspect of the Rendezvous is education and equipping people with the knowledge to demystify the sport. We don’t have any secret fishing spots or secret flies. We want to equip people for success and foster love for the sport.”

What separates Stitcher’s expo from others, he says, is the lack of “traditional” fly shops and the associated entry fees to the club of the fly-fisher. The show is populated by Front Range fly-fishing brands like Elkhorn Outdoors from Loveland, Native Nets from Evergreen, 5280 Angler guide service and Stitcher’s own Ascent Fly Fishing, which makes use of his biology background to create custom fly selections specific to the waters people fish. Out of 27 brands represented at the expo, 26 are local, Stitcher said, along with Colorado fly-tiers and authors the likes of Rick Takahashi and “Hopper Juan” Ramirez.

“The authors, fly-tiers and a lot of the brands at the Rendezvous do this more out of a passion for the sport than any measurable monetary gain,” Stitcher said. “Knowledge is the most precious commodity in this sport. It equips the angler to better determine what gear is essential to getting on the water and it gives them the ability to find the fish and experience success on the water.”

When asked whether more people in the stream is really a good thing for Colorado fishing, Stitcher puts on his ecology cap, firm in his resolve that fishermen will fight hardest for what they love most.

“Once you get on the water, you come to love trout and their habitat,” Stitcher said. “You protect, share and invest in what you love.”

As evidence, 10 percent of the gate at the Fly Fishing Rendezvous goes directly to Colorado Trout Unlimited in support of its mission to enhance and protect the state’s cold-water fisheries.

The reward is evident.

“When you hook up with that one beautiful fish, it’s the cleanest high, you know?” Stitcher said. “There’s nothing like it.”

After watching Air Force kick the CU Buffaloes’ tail, not to mention their undefeated record, into the wild, blue yonder, here’s a legitimate question: How in the world is the Pac-12 recognized as a Power Five football conference?